I have found my twin ego – platonic soulmate – in New York City. He’s a self-proclaimed serial seducer who has just outed himself on national TV. Despite the anti-romance subversion of his message, his fifteen minutes of fame will guarantee a doubling of his current notch count. His steely-eyed pursuit of the pussy earns him my respect.
“Either you acknowledge reality and use it to your benefit, or it will automatically work against you.”
– Robert Ringer
He has written a short e-book outlining his pickup philosophy and field tactics. Standard fare for those of us in the know, but a wider audience would probably find his advice scandalous. I noticed a lot of what he writes parallels my experiences in the field. For instance, he agrees with my assessment of the best night of the week to go out for picking up chicks:
My schedule is drinks with girls Sunday night through Wednesday, and often Friday as well because it’s an early night because I work at 8:30 on Saturday morning. Thursdays, perhaps the best night of the week to go out, I usually go “window shopping” with a buddy, a wingman. We usually go out to check out the hot scenes and look at the girlies all done-up. We may meet a couple girls, even get digits or get laid, but the bulk of my work is not accomplished here.
He also agrees with me on the value of building intrigue in a woman by not talking too much when you first meet her:
The less than one-minute engagement works for a number of reasons. First off all, it prevents the guy from doing anything stupid or awkward, or revealing too much. A nervous guy can torpedo a promising situation by talking too much and turning the girl off, or freaking her out, perhaps by mentioning he lives at home with his folks, or something like that. The less talking you do, the better. Women, as well as men, like the fantasy or “romance” of meeting “that guy”, and since almost no guy is ever going to live-up to some bullshit Prince Charming archetype (who wants to, anyhow) at least prolong the fantasy for your benefit. This leads to the second reason the one-minute engagement works: it maintains the intrigue. “Who was that dashing stranger I just met in the rain?” she thinks as you walk off with your raincoat trailing and your umbrella extended. As they are reeling from the encounter, trying to process what just happened and remember the fine details of what you said, and how you looked, and just how you stood, you’re already gone, not there to fuck it up. They’re hooked. Their mind is already working on you.
Luck favors the laconic. Until you’ve had sex with a woman, it’s my experience that less talking is better. Women tend to be better talkers and can intuit a tremendous amount from some guy who is yapping his gums off. Keep things unspoken, or refuse to divulge stuff; above all, keep it playful, flirty and mildly combative. The French have a word for it – badinage – which means playful, verbal banter.
Keep in mind that this guy is a Harvard grad, so it’s not stupidity that necessitates his economy of words.
I was not surprised to see he’s a big fan of text messaging, like I am, which flies in the face of some of the conventional wisdom that texting is beta:
It is the era of the text message, and men all over the world should be thanking their lucky stars. Not only is this the most effective way to control the conversation and avoid missteps, but you can now reach a larger audience. As my friend Nathan says, “Text messaging has got to be the worst thing that has happened to women in a long time.” It removes that old filter that used to prevent all types of guys from getting laid, something we call “Women’s Intuition”. You know what I’m talking about. You leave a pleasant voicemail on some chic’s phone after meeting her, but you ramble a bit and the tone of your voice becomes increasingly less confident and unsure of itself. You hang up, dissatisfied with the call. It’s the Swingers dilemma – do you call back, etc. (Never call back, by the way). She senses your nervousness, gets turned off, and deletes your number.
Getting little text messages via phone gets them excited in the way a little girl gets excited about a letter from Daddy when he’s away. There is something more fun or romantic, and mysterious about texting, I don’t know. Plus you can make outrageous propositions that you could never deliver with aplomb over the phone, much less in person.
From the video, Janka is a good-looking guy, and that, coupled with the power of dropping the H-bomb on dates, probably gives him a leg up over the average schmo. However, he says his success rate with women only skyrocketed after he learned game — or what he calls “having fun and maintaining my integrity as a man” — which is really just another way to describe the heart of game. This, too, comports with my personal experience. No matter how much objective value a man brings to the dating table, if he doesn’t have a grasp of female psychology and how to handle it his interactions with women will feel like a grind — cajoling, compromising, begging, pushing, pleading, pursuing — just to get a taste of pussy.
Reading further into Janka’s e-book, it turns out he makes little money as an SAT tutor and lives in a glorified closet in Manhattan. In NYC, this is enough to negate his advantage in looks and educational credentials. So clearly game is his biggest asset.
In a related article, a frigid man-hating bitch psychiatrist offers the following helpful advice to a 41 year old man who loves making love with women and being happy as a man:
For your own sake and for the sake of everyone else unfortunate enough to have their lives intersect with yours, you need help. If you don’t stop this behavior, you will likely contract a disease, get yourself arrested or enrage someone so much that you are harmed. If you want to try living a normal life — something beyond a life governed by sexual addiction — you need treatment, either individual treatment or group treatment.
Yes, did you get that? If you are a man who is not afraid to be a man and likes sex with a variety of women you need professional help. I wonder if I counseled women who were addicted to commitment from the men they dated that they should seek treatment for their conditions how they would take it? Offended, I’m guessing. And if the women I counseled complained that they can’t help themselves, I will say “You have free will, right?”
Older women on the precipice of sexual extinction – like this wretched psychiatrist – especially loathe men who are able to exercise their options in the sexual market because these men, through their actions seducing multitudes of women, remind them of their rapidly diminishing market value and interchangeability. A free man who can get pussy when he wants undermines the greatest source of women’s power. To the keepers of polite society, it cannot stand, so men who are able to satisfy their sex drives must be demonized and declared unfit for normal life.
I am wishing this desiccated cunt psychiatrist labial cancer with my mind.
In other news, Chelsea Clinton is still dog ugly. I predict she will have her first… and only… child at the tender age of 36. The Bush twins, meanwhile, will be very fertile.
